


Aníron

by politicalmamaduck



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Ben is Arwen, Canon Divergence - The Lord of the Rings, F/M, Fellowship of the Ring, I Too Would Sacrifice My Immortality for Aragorn as Portrayed by Viggo Mortensen, No Pregnancy, Rey is Aragorn, Role Reversal, Safe to Read if You're Triggered by Pregnancy, Tolkien AU, aragorn and arwen au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:07:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23717917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/politicalmamaduck/pseuds/politicalmamaduck
Summary: “Do you remember when we first met?” he asked, tracing her cheekbone.“I thought I had strayed into a dream,” she murmured, looking up into his eyes.“Long years have passed; you do not have the cares that you carry now.” He sighed, looking down and burdened for only a moment. He looked back up at her, focusing his powerful gaze once more. “Do you remember what I told you?”She could not meet his gaze. She knew the words; they were etched on her heart. Yet she still could not believe them, could not believe that he had said them in the first place, let alone held himself to them all these years later.“You said you would bind yourself to me, forsaking the immortal life of your people.”
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 19
Kudos: 48





	Aníron

**Author's Note:**

> Some lines taken directly from the film _The Fellowship of the Ring_.

The stars always seemed brighter in Rivendell. 

Rey could not resist looking up from her trusty, sturdy steed to gaze upon them, allowing them to fill her mortal heart and soul with joy. 

_A, Elbereth Githoniel_ , the ancient hymn went, and though she was not a singer, she found herself humming it as they drew nearer the Last Homely House East of the Sea. 

_A Elbereth Gilthoniel, silivren penna míriel, o menel aglar elenath!_

O Elbereth Starkindler, white-glittering, slanting down sparkling like a jewel, the glory of the starry host!

The words were apt, for it was a perfect crisp night, a light breeze stirring that had been pleasant under the summer sun. The stars and moon glimmered, guiding their way to the only home Rey had ever deemed worthy of the title. Even the great waterfalls seemed welcoming here. 

Her errand was most unfortunate; her tidings not glad, but borne on the black wings of war. 

The darkness that stirred in the East had spread; the One Ring was active and known once more, borne by a small but sturdy Hobbit in her party. 

There was but one being in all Middle-earth to whom she could unburden her heart, mind, and soul, and he bore burdens of his own. His father was one of the few Men left of Númenórean blood, and deemed worthy to take ship from the Grey Havens after a near fatal wound; his mother, one of the three remaining great powers, a true Princess among Elves and Lúthien’s heiress. 

She would not burden him with her own struggles with the darkness within her. 

He knew it all too well, bearing her mark upon his face from a training session turned duel, gone horribly wrong. 

Both she and he had infamous tempers, undignified and unbecoming of their lineages, all in Rivendell would say. 

Those tempers boiled over when a younger Rey, one who had more energy and less experience in the ways of the world, became frustrated with her companion’s reminders of the legacies they bore, the world for which they were responsible. At that point in her young mortal life, she felt increasingly alone and isolated, trying to learn everything she needed to learn, burdened by the weight of legacy and haunted by the ghosts that had abandoned her to her fate.

The darkness, the weakness that flowed through their veins, that could not be erased by thousands of years of ancestors in her case, nor thousands of years of repentance and redemption in his. 

They were training, using ancient swords, great heirlooms of his house, their blades meeting and crashing. She could still remember his words, the force behind them, and his great strength, powerful and looming over her as they held their stance and their weapons in place.

_You need to learn. I can help you. I can teach you the ancient ways._

_The ancient ways?_ She responded, shaking her head. 

_My ancestors were slaughtered, their home destroyed and cast into the sea, for dabbling in Dark magic, for listening to a shadow that told them he could make them great like those of old_. 

She pushed him off of her and swung out with her blade, striking him across the face. 

Rey still cringed at the memory; for all the good Leia had done for her, taking her in, giving her a home, teaching her the ancient languages of her people and everything she needed to know should she ever choose to reclaim the throne of Gondor...

 _Your mother knew you would be safe here. You are the last of that bloodline, there is no one left_. 

She fled, not to return again until she had earned her position among the Dúnedain, and began to come to terms with her many-times great-grandfather Palpatine’s evil. 

Her thoughts were interrupted, as they always were, by Rivendell’s steward, Lindir, bidding them welcome and offering refreshment.

“Gi nathlof hí, Lady Rey,” he said, bowing deeply. “I will inform my mistress that you have arrived.”

“Thank you, Lindir,” she replied. “There is no need for her to be disturbed, however. I am certain she is already aware of our arrival and the tidings which I bear.”

Lindir nodded. “As you say, my lady. Food and your rooms have been made ready.”

“Thank you,” she replied once more, allowing her horse to be led away. She would be well cared for here, as she always was. Both horse, and rider. 

It was good to be back, though she did not long to see her childhood rooms once more. 

The library, however, was a place where she could pass many hours in quiet reflection, and put her mind and soul at ease.

Her heart was altogether a different story, one that could not be helped by the tales of old, for she knew what she would find looking at those tales. 

Another song sounded in Rey’s mind; she was unable to escape its pull, as if Rivendell’s great choir were performing just for her. The Elves, and their love of songs that could never easily be forgotten, wrapped around and through her each day of her upbringing alongside them. 

_Tinúviel! Tinúviel!_

_He called her by her elvish name,_

_And there she halted listening._

_One moment stood she, and a spell_

_His voice laid on her: Beren came,_

_And doom fell on Tinúviel_

_That in his arms lay glistening._

Tears appeared in Rey’s eyes, equally as unbidden as the song telling a tale she longed to avoid. 

Ben Solo, heir to Rivendell, Lúthien’s heir, _Mîr n’Ardhon_ , she would not be his downfall the way Beren was to Lúthien. 

Only he would disturb her in the library, and so he did, catching her gazing down upon the remnants of a sword that was hers and hers alone to claim. 

She both dreaded and longed for this moment. 

“Why do you fear the past and the future?” He asked. “You are Isildur Palpatine’s heir, not Isildur Palpatine himself.” 

“The same blood flows through my veins. The same weakness,” she answered, whispering, giving voice to the fears and darkness she had borne all her life. 

“Your time will come. You will face the same evil, and you will defeat it. The Shadow does not hold sway yet. Not over you, and not over me.” This last bit he added in Elvish, causing Rey’s spine to shudder at the beautiful and powerful words.

The darkness, they would face together, when the time came. She knew it to be as true as her love for him. 

He had the high cheekbones and dark eyes and waves of hair known to Luthien’s line. She had been unable to resist him from the moment they met. 

His thoughts had turned to that moment as well, it seemed, while they walked from the library into the gardens. 

“Do you remember when we first met?” he asked, tracing her cheekbone. 

“I thought I had strayed into a dream,” she murmured, looking up into his eyes.

“Long years have passed; you did not have the cares that you carry now.” He sighed, looking down and burdened for only a moment. He looked back up at her, focusing his powerful gaze once more. “Do you remember what I told you?”

She could not meet his gaze. She knew the words; they were etched on her heart. Yet she still could not believe them, could not believe that he had said them in the first place, let alone held himself to them all these years later.

“You said you would bind yourself to me, forsaking the immortal life of your people.” 

“And to that I hold. I would rather share one lifetime with you, than face the ages of this world alone. I choose a mortal life. Mine is the choice of Lúthien, and of my mother before me, and as she so have I chosen, both the sweet and the bitter.”

They kissed under the moon and stars, and pledged their troth to one another with those celestial lights as their witnesses. 

They kissed, hands tracing taut bodies and corded muscles, honed from years of training with swords and horses. 

Rey traced the outline of his pointed ears after they had sunk to the forest floor, causing his toes to curl and a moan to escape his throat. 

“Rey,” he said, looking up at her on top of him as if she were the light of the Two Trees themselves. 

“My Rey,” he said, reaching a now-trembling hand up to her cheek once more. 

She kissed him again, and knew she was as lost as Beren when he stumbled upon Lúthien before her. 

She would give her mortal life to protect and defend this elf and his people, as he would sacrifice his immortality for her. 

For tonight, however, they had each other. 

He wore simple, though elegant and exquisitely tailored clothes, suitable for one of his status and position. No armor was necessary for either of them within Rivendell; it was easy for him to divest her of her fighting leathers and her tunic. 

He unwrapped her breast band, then traced his fingers over every scar she bore, pressed his lips to them as if a burning brand, searing her with the fire of his love. 

She was straddling him, wearing only her trousers and underwear, when in the haze of love, she remembered a crucial detail from her childhood history lessons; it rose to her mind unbidden, much like the song that seemed to summon her would be lover to find her in the library.

_"It was the act of bodily union that achieved marriage...it was at all times lawful for any of the Eldar, both being unwed, to marry thus of free consent one to the other without ceremony or witness…in flight and exile and wandering, such marriages were often made."_

She placed a hand upon him, feeling his heart beat beneath his powerful, broad chest and breathed deeply, both of them doing so heavily.

“Are you sure?” was all she could ask in that moment, bonded and bound to the only one she had ever loved. 

“Yes, Rey, my Estel, Chieftess of the Dúnedain, my life,” he said, his eyes dark and shining. 

They kissed once more, Ben rising from the forest floor and lifting her into his arms, her legs about his waist. 

He put her down for just a moment, only to sweep her back up again as if she weighed nothing.

He carried her, bridal style, to his rooms under the stars and moon, where she helped him remove the rest of his clothing with trembling hands. 

She traced his scars as he traced hers, kissing them and claiming them for her own. 

_I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine_ , he whispered to her in Sindarin after he entered her, his arms entwined about her, the silk sheets of his bed strewn about them. 

She was filled to capacity, joy overflowing, her body and soul one with his at last as they moved together, finding a rhythm in their bodies, their hearts beating as one, creating a song all their own. 

She gave herself to him as he gave himself to her, knowing they would never be alone to face the ages of the world and all its troubles again.

She cried out to the moonlight as the stars twinkled in his eyes, and vowed they would never be parted from that day hence. 

“Varda Elentári,” she cried once more as she came, and he chuckled, altogether undignified for an Elf, Lúthien’s heir, an altogether too mortal, too human gesture, recalling for her his father, so long departed to the West. 

She laughed with him, and kissed him again as they sank back down into the sheets, each tracing the other’s cheek and freckles or beauty marks. 

“Meleth nîn,” he murmured as they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, and Rey knew she was truly home.

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to the creators and maintainers of the many Tolkien, especially Sindarin, resources on the Internet, and to my beta boo, Desiree. Please let me know what you think in a comment and come find me on Twitter and Tumblr!


End file.
